Wakeup call
by RashelleAndJag
Summary: Percy has a rather rude awakening involving the Mirror of Erised, and is inspired to change.
1. Prologue

            Percy Weasley awoke with a start. The ceiling was glaring at him. He banged his head on his headboard. It was a quarter to noon. He was late for work. 

            He was never late for work. 

            And it was all the fault of some stupid mirror. . . 

_Flashback:_

_            It was a priceless treasure. One of a thousand collecting dust in the ministry's storage rooms. This green and red amulet he had just filed away could cure the blind – provided someone was willing to kill for it. How was that? Just like magic. A two-edged sword. Blatant hope mixed with certain despair.  _

_Percy had the overwhelming desire to run back upstairs to his reports on the desperate lack of good filawy hair available for import. At least when magic was small, it was useful, understandable, and quantifiable. It fitted into little boxes. And then, some moron had to open it up, Pandora drawn irresistibly toward it, let it loose and make something like this.   _

_            Something struck his eye, as he turned away. It was tall, soft and silvery. A mirror. Or more correctly, the mirror of Erisid. Percy remembered the notes about this one. The report had quoted "It shows nothing less than one's deepest darkest desires". _

_            It didn't look dangerous, the reflective surface covered with a soft blue drape, but then nothing in this room looked dangerous. Well, except maybe that skeletal hand in the corner. That looked menacing, although logistically it was only dangerous if you intended to utilize it. _

_            Percy remembered that the mirror had last been signed out by Professor Dumbledore in an attempt to guard the Sorcerer's stone. And it had accomplished it's mission fairly well. Except for the involvement of Harry Potter, but if there was anything he had learned in the time since The Boy Who Lived had become close with his family, it was that Harry did pretty much what he wanted to. Which were brave, wonderful, irrational, senseless things. _

_            The mirror was so pretty, the silvery script imprinted onto his mind.  _

_Besides, there was nothing this mirror could do to him. Make him waste away in front of it, endlessly desiring his heart's desire? Percy couldn't even think of his heart's desire. A better position in the ministry? A cozy little home with wife and kids? None of it rang true within him. He meant, he wanted that stuff, right? What sensible person didn't?_

_But deep, dark desires? He didn't have any of those. He should look into the mirror and see nothing but himself as he was. He had the good life, right? It was all good. He was working an important job, doing things that mattered in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he'd see himself with one of those really good coffees. The ones Helga makes, down in the luxuriant staff room?    _

_             His fingers found the folds of the fabric, pulling it down. The mirror reflected the soft shadows of the room, the dark aisles upon which artefact after artefact was heaped. If he squinted, he could make out the torches on the walls. But he wasn't there. The mirror was completely blank with no trace of his reflection. _


	2. Chapter One

12:00

He couldn't go to work today. He wouldn't. He would take a sick day. He'd never taken a sick day in his life. But somehow the parchment fluttered shakily to his outstretched hand. The ink was harder. He spilt it in his bed before he managed to scribble a note: **I apologize for my late notice; unfortunately, I am unwell, and incapable of making it in for my shift today. I will attempt to complete as much of my work as possible at home today, and I will certainly be in early on Tuesday to catch up. I apologize again for the inconvenience. Sincerely, Percy Weasley**

There were green thumbprints on the outside of the parchment. He summoned an owl before he could think of what he had done. The owl swooped in, grabbed the parchment, and tilted its head when he told it to charge it to the ministry. 

His department was a month ahead of schedule, thanks to Percy's strict work ethic. It was poor judgement to set a bad example. And there were still the cases of Ramynic sightings to review, and exportation procedures to refine, and a whole briefcase  of other work to do. In his opinion, the supervisor was rather lax with the schedule. 

            And Percy was staying home today. 

            Because he slept in. 

            Why did it feel so good?

12:30

             Percy finished making his bed. And searched desperately for something else to do. The floors were clean enough to eat off. The shelves were dusted. The books were organized first by genre, then by reverse alphabetical order. His laundry was done; washed, dried, mended, folded, and neatly sorted into the appropriate drawers. 

            There was nothing to do. 

            There was nothing left to do. 

_You know, I may hate this place_, Percy thought first vehemently and then again with open-mouthed surprise as he stared up at the ceiling. He was spread – eagle on the worn wood of the kitchen floor. It was a ridiculous, and childish, and no one was there to care. If he had been at the burrow, everyone would have looked at him strangely, and his mother would no doubt have said something like, "Up now, Percy-dear, if you have the energy to be a bother, you have the energy to help me do these dishes." 

            No one could look at him strangely now, unless they had x-ray glasses, and they were mostly muggle tales. Sometimes the stuff that muggles came up with to fill their lives with some sort of magic, was a lot weirder than actual magic itself. 

            He missed the burrow, and yet he felt so good to finally be on his own. Proud of his accomplishments, confident in his success ~ _relieved? Was it relieving to be away from home? It was quieter here. Cleaner here. _There was less pressure. He didn't have to be Perfect Percy anymore, and he could do what he wanted, get down and lie on the floor. So why was this the first time he had ever done such a thing?__

            He had a right to look ridiculous sometimes, right? He couldn't imagine the looks on his coworker's faces if they could see him right now. A small chuckle surprised its way out of him, and the sound rang in the air. 

            The smooth coolness pressed into his back, as he reflected. It was a perfectly serviceable flat; there was a small bedroom and a small kitchen and a living room just big enough for his bookshelves, his desk, the fireplace, and a perfectly serviceable couch. Everything had its own place.

            Neat and order, and proper. Sensible, really, the only possible solution. 

            So why do I want to rip the pictures off the wall?

            They were landscapes. Done by a wizard of some talent, they depicted acres of life-like green rolling grasses. They were currently popular, likely to become a classic, and exactly what an interior decorator would recommend for a small home; to give it the illusion of more space. 

            Percy despised them. 


	3. Chapter Two

12:53

            There was really no sense in keeping them around if he did not find them aesthetically pleasing. That was the purpose of art; was it not?

            He carefully packed them away in boxes. No use throwing them out. They could be useful somewhere. 

            Now the walls looked blank. Bare. 

            There was no harm in looking in the Gorus Catalogue. He did need new pieces now, and sometimes a little measured change could have a dramatic impact. Like when he had started filing his papers by complaint, rather than region. His productivity had risen by thirty four percent. 

            Percy flipped randomly through the pages. No, no, no, his colour scheme was pale tans and dark browns, not blue. No, no, and my, that was rather gaudy, wasn't it? Rather like the picture in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts. A crowd of exuberant merpeople frolicked in the sea. The bright turquoise and marine-blue was almost blinding. Almost indecent. Shameful. A young merman flipped chocolate hair at him, turning his back, and exposing a length soft olive skin.  

            Percy flipped to the next page, there was a surprising lack of artwork that suited a colour scheme of pale tans and dark browns. More of those landscapes. Maybe he would go with a set in blue; it wouldn't be that difficult to transfigure everything into another colour. He certainly had helped his mom do it often enough. 

            He was back at the page with the merpeople. 

            A little girl, maybe four, with sun-kissed blond hair and blue eye's like Ginny's, looked up at him. She smiled, a shy smile and offered him a seashell. 

1:30

            He bought a picture with merpeople. In fact, he bought a set. Three of them. A cluster of young women combing their hair on a sand-swept shore. A communal game of water-tag, in which young mermen raced through the water, full of endless energy and enthusiasm.  The one with the impudent brown-eyed youth. And the little golden girl playing on the deserted reef. She had such haunting eyes. 

            Percy rarely entertained visitors. He was the only one who had to look at it.

            Which meant; the beige wallpaper had to go. He found his wand, lying in its place, suspended over the mantle. He hadn't touched it in . . . he could not recollect how long. It wasn't a necessary instrument in his work. It was old. One of the cheaper wands from Ollivander's. Percy hadn't even picked it out. His father had borrowed a Comprehensive Potentiality Tester off of one of his coworkers, and found that Percy was best suited for a wand of unicorn hair. They had then sent Percy's measurements in.   

He felt that sudden thrill that had always overwhelmed him. Playing with fire. . .  

He tapped the wall gently with his wand. He had given up on using words a year ago. Words were very good for structuring a spell, giving it a set form, but limiting in that the pronunciation had to be absolutely correct. White was a good colour. Full of contrast for the blue. 

The wall turned lilac. 

Percy had not thought of lilac.

But it did look good. The colour glowed, like that instant before dawn, when Percy made himself breakfast in the morning. He could almost fancy that hidden underneath was the soft glittering subtleties of the fading stars. 

And the sofa ~ became a soft sapphire lounging couch. How was anyone supposed to maintain a proper posture when they sat on one of those things? Reading was going to be terribly difficult. And the kitchen ~ became a sunny yellow. Too bright for the rest of the house. Certainly going to be an eyesore when people looked into the window. 

It became almost game. Trying to guess what would his wand conjure up before it happened. And that was the key point; Percy had no control over the spontaneous spectacles that were occurring. It was just happening. 


	4. Chapter Three

3:00

            As he looked around, he could not help but gape at the destruction his wand, _he had wrought. What had once been a hard, sombre room full of acute angles, and muted tones. . . _

            Had been transformed into something soft and almost riotous in its use of colour. His books looked out of place. . . Almost everything in his flat had been altered in his maniac spree. He wanted to blame this all on George and Fred somehow, but they hadn't been near him in months. And even they couldn't ruin his house from miles away. 

            The only thing that hadn't been changed and yet still looked somewhat at home, was a Christmas present from Ginny.  A bookend. In the shape of a pale cream kitten, with vivid orange stripes and luminous blue eyes.

            Percy hadn't known exactly what to say when Ginny had presented him with it. It certainly hadn't gone with his décor, and it wasn't a terribly practical present. There was only one, not a set. But somehow, it had felt heavy, strong and cool beneath his fingers. . . Ginny had left before he could come up with any words. She thought he hated it, no doubt. 

            The kitten had watched him do his work on many occasions, a mischievous air in the curve of its ears and the curl of its tail. It always looked as though it would fly from its given position on the shelf and viciously attack his quills. 

            What if it could? What if it could?

            A simple transfiguration would make it possible. This wasn't a tortoise to a tea kettle. 

            Percy's wand was drawing nearer to it. Creating such a creature was irresponsible to say the least. It would be a black mark on his spotless record. 

            Hundreds of wizards had them. 

            He would have to feed it. Such a creature existed on the subsistence of magical energy and without it quickly faded back into an inanimate object. Many wizarding families used that. It was a convenient way of testing children for the responsibility required for the ownership of a pet. 

            He was responsible. He was a very responsible person. Hadn't people told him so for years and years?  

            _Blue eyes blinked. _

            It would need a name. 

            _The tail gave a half-hearted twitch, _

            It looked like a Nigel. 

            3:26

            The kitten looked at him with wide open eyes. This picture of innocence lasted less than it took Percy to blink. Then, Nigel, and it was already a Nigel, it was evident in the way the kitten flexed his claws. Then, Nigel ran like something possessed for Percy's Index of Magical Probabilities.

            It looked like Percy had been mistaken in the object of Nigel's attentions. The quills remained intact, while he sunk his little teeth into the hard leather of the book and hissed.  

            4:00

            Nigel was sleeping, completely worn out the way that only kittens could be. A soft warm mass in his bed, curled around his pillow. Getting cat hair everywhere, all over his bedding. 

            Percy smiled and put a dish of warm milk, enchanted with a lumos charm on his bedside table. The milk would do the kitten very little good, but the magic upon it, would be sustaining. But he should go out and buy it something more suitable. 

            Even though such magical creations were outlawed, where there was a will, there was a way. There was a brand of owl food, Quibbits, which was composed of as much magic as physical nutrients. Wizarding families all over used it to feed their magical creations. Percy had been assigned a report on the recommended action to prevent the continued use of Quibbits for the furtherance of illegal and irresponsible magical workings. He had worried the problem, gnawed around the edges, for days. 

            People are attached to their pets. Even the illegal ones. 

            Biting down hard, Percy had finally suggested that every wizard was required to present his owl's licence before purchasing said product. Of course, nearly every family had an owl, and those who didn't, knew someone who did. 

            Problem solved. He rummaged in the drawer, finding the license for Errol ~ his mother had asked him to take care of it this year. Percy looked in the mirror, straightened his hair, and murmured a charm to put the creases back into his clothes. 

            They were decidedly old-fashioned. 

            He could perhaps stop at a shop and look for something new. . . 


	5. Author's Notes and Responses to Reviewer...

            A big thanks goes out to all those who made it this far. Thank you for taking the time.

Okay, there's more, and I'm not sure if I should just delete this and leave it alone. I have so many stories on the go, and so much work to be done, but absolutely unable to write on another of my projects, this story hit me out of nowhere. It was all like what-the-hell. I don't even write Harry Potter. I think however, that there might be something there. Unlike so many of my stories, it doesn't have gaping plot holes, or characters that are not very well defined. At least I hope not. 

I am looking for reviews. 

            So feel free to constructively criticize – I'm always looking for a way to improve something. I promise that I'm desperate and eager-to-please enough to respond to most reviews, and I take anonymous ones, too! 

            Rashelle Waterburn Seabrooks 

            And ohmygosh, I've got reviewers already! Must be my foray into a more popular fandom. Well, thank you, thanks so much. 

            First, anonymously, (I take my reviews anyway I can get them, and love the anonymous ones just as much, thank you)

            _Oh dear, Percy's desires are that? Poor lad_

And I agree. I have always found Percy to be a very sympathetic character. Although if you had told me three days ago I'd write a story featuring him, I'd have laughed. Hysterically. 

And, a thank you to Kazza. 

            _Rashelle  
Don't delete this. Put it on hold if you want and wait a while until updating it but please don't delete it. You've got an intriguingly different view into the MoM with your story idea. I like what you've done to start with, especially using the Mirror of Erised as the catalist for Percy making a change in his life.  
If you don't think you'll have time to write a full, detailed story, how about writing a series of short-short story style chapters. Something like each chapter being a part of a bigger story but using the tiny stories to tell the bigger story._

I'm always glad when a story find backers. People to keep me from destroying it utterly. You know, I think I'll do that. Each chapter is going to be short, and hopefully reflect a breakthough in Percy's life. It seems like a sensible solution. I mean, I've lost all my muses. I keep trying to call them up, but I'm just getting the answering machine. So I don't think I can just give up a story that wants to be written. Even if it will likely disappoint those looking for new chapters in my current work. 

And another thank you. To Jenny,

            _I like the story so far:) I'd like to find out what the mirror is trying to tell Percy. Please continue!_

Okay, done, twist my rubber arm. Here's the next chapter. Already. Hmmmm. . . This story is certainly forceful. 

            And another thank you, to Nath, who simply said. 

            _keep__ writing._

Thank you so much for your support.

            And last, but not least, a thank you to Bizzarotom

            _Write it! Stories that pop up have a will of their own and are always the best. It's like they have to be written._

Agreed. It like there's someone there writing it for you, and all you have to do is type the words. 

            And I'm back again, responding to reviewers. Thank you all very much. 

            First off, a thank you to my cousin, Nicki-Darling, 

            _You have Amazed me Pagey, i didnt think you had it in you to write a Harry Potter fic, Let alone one with Percy. I loved it and i will be expecting more chapters, and soon._

Well, here's your next chapter. I didn't have a clue I'd ever write a Precy-fic. It just happened. I was hijacked. Really. Now where's the stories you promised me? Where? 

            And a thank you to Dyani, 

            _Oh wow. I said "Whoa!" right out loud at the last line of the prologue, let me tell you. I'm itching to see what other effects this has on Percy (who happens to be one of my favorite HP characters, by the way :P).  
In the way of actual constructive comments: I love your writing style. It has a certain brisk, matter-of-factness that really works for the current tone of this fic. I only saw one or two very minor spelling mistakes, and I thank you heartily for that. X3 Finally, THANK YOU for writing about Percy. There aren't enough fics out there about the poor guy.   
And though I know what you mean about feeling like your muses have left you, I'm begging you to please try to... borrow one, or anything you need to do to finish this. I'm intrigued, and I'd love to read more. Please? ^^;_

I have to admit this story is nothing like anything I'm writing right now. It has certain freshness that is terribly appealing at the moment. Therefore, I predict my muses may hang around a bit longer. I have always misunderstood Percy, and not always been sympathetic. However, reading some of the awesome Percyfics that are around lately, I felt inspired, and this story just took over my brain. 

            And another thank-you to Jenny, who is back for more. Thank you, yes, I am dancing a little victory dance, but you can't see me, so my dignity's intact. 

            _Poor Percy. Just laying on the floor like that. I would galdly keep him company on the floor, if he wasn't a fictional characeter:) So YAY! You're going to continue:) Percy hates the pics? Hmph. And to think that I gave him a good deal on those too. hehe. I'm in such a wierd mood right now, but to summarize this entire review: Yay! You're going to continue!_

Yes, I am going to continue. Percy has taken over my brain. There's no other explanation. 

            And another return reviewer, Bizzarotom, thank you. In fact, thank you, thank you, thank you again. 

            _I'm glad to see that you are going to continue. I can't wait to see where this story is going to lead us and what will develope._

Truthfully, I can't either. . . I have an ending in mind, but getting there is the journey, and story's tend have a mind of their own. . . 

            And a new reviewer, Futon, 

            _You need to improve on your vocab. You've used the word "hate" more than once in the chapter and the chapter is too short... The excuse letter was also too informal for a man of Percy's character... there's plenty of room for improvement...         _

            Wow, you really sugarcoat it. Seriously, thank you very much. Your honesty is refreshing, and muchly appreciated. I have fixed the word "hate" ~ and I'll be the first to admit, letters are not my forte. I have tried to improve it, while keeping Percy's state of mind intact. If you want to mention any other areas where I could use improvement, I'd gladly listen. 

            And another return reviewer. Yes, I could subsist on a diet of these alone. Another Thank you to Kazza,

            _You're welcome, Rashelle.  
I like chapter one, you've showed so much of Percy's disquiet with just a few bits of information (especially the blotted letter).  
So where are you taking us next?_

Well, I think Percy's seriously going to examine the different aspects of his life. . .  That's kind of the story in synopsis, but I'll probably begin close to home, and attempt to slowly bring him out from within himself. Does that make any sense? 

            Okay, I'm finally back again. I have chased down all my muses and am forcing them to work laborious hours. They claim it's against their contract, but so was their extended vacation. Thank you all very much to everyone who took the time to review. 

            So Hark! A new reviewer, DragongirlG, who said, 

_            Wow, this is a very interesting take on the "nerd" of the Weasley family. Keep writing. You've got a very original idea here, and I hope you continue it._

Thank you very much. I have taken a long absence, but I'm glad to be back. 

            And another new reviewer, Ilana Jacquline, 

            _I commend you. Your plot is completly original and I have never seen anything like it. You toatly had me visualizing in the proluge. It was fantastic. I hope you write more. This is so good. You have such a way with words. Thanks for soemthing worth reading.   
P.s - Check out my book which should be in stores within the year. " far from a fairytale" by Ilana Jacquline.  
Write more soon! _

Thank you so very much! It's been a while, but I plan on finishing this piece if it kills me. 

            And another new reviewer, Ladybug, and yes, at this point I am jumping up and down, and scaring my snake, but she wouldn't understand anyway. 

            _I am intrigued by this. I want to see Percy free himself, and I always knew he had it in him!! Keep going!_

I have nothing really insightful to say. Just thank you, thank you. 

            And a repeat reviewer! Jenny, who's back again. 

            _Percy didn't pick out his wand? Is he possibly going to go to Ollivander's to get another wand? Or is he going to stick to the one that shoots off random colors? I loved the haunting eyes bit. I love that he thought of Ginny when he saw the mermaid. Are people going to come over and see his now-vibrant house? BTW, I love the color lilac, it's one of my favorite colors, but I must say nothing beats green, which is my favorite, and which I noticed a definite lack of;) Okay, you can disregard the whole color scheme in this review, as it has no point. In summary: Good Chapter, and keep them coming:)_

You are absolutely right, I completely neglected green. Oops. And just between you and me I'm thinking of ending this with a little get together between Percy and Oliver. But I'm not quite sure yet, and this could change. 

            And thank you's to Darcel, and an anynomous reviewer 'Rah', I'll take them anyway I can get them. 

            And another reviewer with some serious questions, Dreams of Magic. 

_            Ok ... what just happened? So Percy is having fun by himself ... what does that have to do with the Plot. What is the Plot! Did he just remember what the Mirror of Erised showed?_

Okay, the story in summary – Percy takes a peek into the Mirror of Erised, and is profoundly changed by what he sees. Percyland is a place of much denial and repression, and the mirror provides him with an opportunity for much introspective contemplation. The prologue begins with Percy waking up in bed, and flash backing to the day before when he saw the mirror. Percy having fun by himself is amazing in and of itself, because Percy is not the sort of person who believes in fun, and certainly not irresponsible use of magic. . . I don't know if that helps, but thank you very much for the opportunity to see my fic through another person's eyes. 


End file.
